


there goes my hero, he's ordinary

by milkyway_starboy



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: (we'll get to link eventually i promise), Enemies to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Multi, Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyway_starboy/pseuds/milkyway_starboy
Summary: in the world of hyrule, there's many who took up arms to defend their homes before link awoke to a grand destiny. except maybe, he doesn't want that destiny, and maybe he can make his own. maybe he doesn't have to fight this war against calamity on his own, and he can find the support he needs this time around. maybe this time, the universe sends him a friend and a rival, and they both help link in ways he couldn't have expected before. and maybe this time, things can end well.
Relationships: Link/Original Male Character(s), Link/Prince Sidon, Link/Prince Sidon/Original Male Character(s), Prince Sidon/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	there goes my hero, he's ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title: imed keeps quennan from being gay with link asmr part 1
> 
> i recently started my first to-be-completed run of botw n i've been goin off th deep end talkin about theories n stuff w my friend limes. quennan is a gerudo trans man i came up with, and imed is a nonbinary sheikah character that limes made. together, we started writin this fic in our discord dms, n now here it is in its fully glory. it's gonna be multiple chapters of course, n i'll update tags n warnings as we get further into the fic. couldn't have done this w/out my good good friend limes. hope y'all enjoy.

there’s a chill in the air as quennan wakes, an early winter breeze wafting through the stable entrances. he peeks one eye open; the sun hasn’t yet started to lighten the edge of the horizon, so he snuggles down under the covers for a bit longer. though his eyes close again, he’s already planning the day’s ride. a few more stables out and then he should reach rito village, and maybe that’s where link will be hunkering down too for a bit. quen can only hope… 

the stable owner calls out the five a.m. notice and quen sits up with a yawn, stretching. he can feel eyes on him as he gathers his things; even with his hair cut short and hidden under a cap, his sharp features, dark skin, muscular stature, and bright green eyes give him away as gerudo. the hylians are used to gerudo roaming, sure, but not dressed like he is - because of the simple fact that he _is_ a man. a gerudo man hasn’t been seen in hylia since… well, since the calamity had a physical form. quen does his best to ignore the stares as he checks his supplies and takes his horse out from boarding.

the mare, morrowen, nickers softly in greeting and bumps her nose against his shoulder. “morning, girl,” he murmurs softly, running his hand gently through her blond mane. the stablehand, canni, finishes plaiting flowers into the horse’s hair and gives the lad a small smile.

“safe travels, sir,” she says, untying the reins from the post and handing them to him. “hopefully we’ll see you again sometime.”

“thanks.” quen mounts and gives canni a nod. “you’ll definitely be seeing me around. the travel never stops these days. until then.” he urges morrowen into a trot and heads out, towards the tabantha stable. he’ll stop there for lunch and gossip, then head on towards rito stable. that’ll be another stop, though just for word of mouth and to board morrowen, and then the last trek up to rito village, which is a good hour’s climb. hopefully he’ll be there by 7 p.m. and have a bit of time to ask around about link before everyone goes to bed.

he doesn’t get that far. half an hour out from the tabantha stable, he’s stopped by a fellow traveler. "please," she pleads, "i need… i need grilled salmon…"

quennan's eyes narrow and his hands loosen on the reins. "sorry, i don't have any grilled salmon to spare."

the traveler sighs, but he notices that the line of her shoulders tenses. "well… that's okay, because what i really want… is to hurt the legendary hero!" her normal hylian outfit disappears and the traveler is revealed to be a member of the yiga clan.

"i'm not him." quen draws his gerudo scimitar, shifting his feet so that the tips of his toes are pressed against the stirrups.

"no, but you're his friend! hurt you and i hurt him! hya!" as the yiga jumps at him, quen pushes up and back, flipping out of the saddle. the sudden movement causes morrowen to whinny and trot forward, out of harm's way; and by the time quen's feet touch the ground, he has his scimitar up and shield on the defensive.

this isn't the first time he's been attacked by a yiga clan member, and so he knows there's something of a pattern to their fighting style. dash attack and then retreat, and teleporting surprise attack. the dash attack is easy enough to block and then attack in return, blade slicing cleanly through the flesh of his opponent's arm. the yiga hisses and retreats, then makes a circular motion with her arms and disappears. quen waits it out: one, two, three… on the third count, he dodges backwards and is just missed by the reappearing yiga.

an arrow whizzes past his ear, startling him to the left, and embeds itself into the yiga's upper thigh. quen doesn't have time to spare a glance behind him as he swings again at the clan member, hitting the same arm a second time. "stop!" an unfamiliar voice shouts. he can't help it; he pauses, and in the pause the yiga clan member throws a smoke bomb and disappears. the gerudo man suppresses a growl of frustration and turns to the source of the voice.

on the crest of a nearby hill, the figure of the intervening party is silhouetted against the near-noon sun. "who are you?" quen calls out, shielding his eyes against the light. "i appreciate the help, but it was unnecessary."

the figure moves, jumping down from the hill. now out of the direct light, it's easy to recognize the symbol of the sheikah clan on this person's stealth outfit. their white hair is up in a bun, face obscured by the traditional white mask. a true member of the sheikah clan. “that look in your eye,” they say, voice quieter now that they’re closer to him. “if it came down to it you might’ve killed that yiga clan member, but the yiga are cowards who live to fight another day. there was no need to let things escalate if both parties can walk out alive.”

quen snorts, pulling a rag from the pouch on his belt and wiping his scimitar clean. “so you’ll admit they’re cowards but don’t want them to die? they’ll just come back stronger than before. better to get them out of the way now instead of making more enemies for yourself.” he hardly waits for an answer, sheathing his blade and slinging his shield onto his back again before approaching morrowen with a carrot in hand.

“they’re people. you’re ready to have more than blood on your hands? you seem like a warrior who’s better than that. i was told the gerudo were honorable.” the sheikah has remained in their spot, though they’ve also put their weapon away and stand now with crossed arms and a firm stance.

“the yiga are not a threat the gerudo take lightly. their main hideout infringes on gerudo land, taints the sanctity of our desert, our highlands, and our ruins. as such, they’re no different in our eyes than the mindless beasts that the calamity twists to its bidding.” quen pats morrowen’s neck and mounts up again, pausing to look back at the sheikah. “but maybe a sheikah wouldn’t understand, considering the relation between the clans.” and then quen urges his horse into a trot, leaving the confrontation behind.

~~~

a little after 12:30, quennan sits at the cookfire at tabantha stable, pulling mushroom rice balls from his pack. he's found that they're one of the easiest meals to make ahead of of time and store for later; wrap them in linen and store in a pocket of his bag with white chuchu jellies and they'll be good for days. just warm them up next to the fire for a bit, or in a pinch switch out white for red jellies.

he sets three rice balls by the fire now, but his thoughts turn to link as he waits for his food to heat up. the hero had been the one to introduce him to the properties of chuchu jellies.

_the desert wind chafed at quen's arms, eyes squinting against the sun and sand as he followed the small hylian over dunes. thankfully, they'd rented a pair of sand seals, so they weren't having to make the trek into molduga territory on foot - but that didn't do much to quell the anxiety in his gut. of course he wanted to help malena, he'd known her his whole life, but fighting a molduga? quen's eyes drifted to the "hero of hyrule" and wondered if he'd made a mistake in coming with him._

_as if link could hear his thoughts, he raised a hand to signal them to stop behind a dune. the hylian slung his shield onto his back again and turned to quen. "just follow my lead, alright?" he signed, eyebrows bunched together in understanding. "you have a spear, all i'll need you to do is jab at its eyes as i get on its back to take it down. if things get hairy, you can back down and take cover."_

_all quen could do was nod, his grip on the aforementioned spear tightening. link patted the gerudo's arm, then pulled out his bow and headed over the dune._

_the fight took about thirty minutes, but to quen it simultaneously felt like mere seconds and whole hours. he'd done as instructed, feet light on the sand and dodging as best he could while keeping the molduga distracted by jabbing at the soft flesh around its eyes. link got on top of it like planned, shooting one, two, three bomb arrows into the weak spot behind its huge crest. the creature went down with a screech, and quen put his spear away as he came closer._

_link was already cutting into the stomach of the beast, tugging out an organ as large as his own torso and dropping it in the sand. “you have that large linen?” he signed to the gerudo, looking up at him. quen nodded and pulled it out of his pack, kneeling next to the hylian. link laid out the linen, shoveling sand onto it and then putting the guts on the sand. “gather up the edges like a bowl,” he asked, and quen did as told so that the hero could pack sand around the organ and then tie the ends closed. “there. that’ll hold it until we can get back to town.” the gerudo put the package into his bag and made to stand again._

_but he must have been showing some signs of the heat, because he felt link’s smaller hand on his arm to keep him kneeling. when quen looked at him, the hero took out a white chuchu jelly and carefully smooshed it in his hand, then smeared it on the gerudo’s face and neck. the cooling effect was instantaneous, soothing the unrelenting heat quen felt. link did the same for himself, as quen asked, “where did you learn all this? fighting monsters and using their parts to heal yourself, i mean.”_

_“i’ve traveled a lot,” link signed, making sure he had all his things again before heading back to their seals. “you learn quick when your life is on the line. it’s just experience, nothing more.” he took his shield out and headed back for gerudo town, clearly done talking about it, and quen filed the information aside for later as he followed suit._

quen blinks himself out of memory, looking down at the now-steaming rice balls. he eats, mind stuck on the feeling of link’s hands on his face; calloused fingertips still gentle as a feather against his skin, scarred palms pressed against his cheek and his pulse. a touch like a blessing.

the gerudo is quick to get back on morrowen’s back and heading for rito stable after lunch. he’s got to make up for lost time from that fight with the yiga and interaction with the sheikah. hm. as quen rides, he can’t help but think about the similarities between the yiga clan member and the sheikah. clothing that lays close to the skin to maximize stealth, masks to hide identity, quick and sneaky attacks; neither seemed particularly friendly either. quen urges morrowen into a gallop. hopefully he’d never see the sheikah again.

~~~

the sun is setting as quen finishes the hike up to the main levels of rito village. he passes the inn, frowning as he sees a familiar figure on one of the beds, is that…? he shakes his head and keeps moving, heading up to the elder first to inquire about link.

unfortunately, kaneli hasn’t heard of link; if the hero was in rito village, he didn’t stop by the elder first. quen takes his hat off and runs a hand through his hair as he heads back down the stairs, absent-mindedly heading for the cookfire. so no sign of him, not for a while. but the ring had pointed him this direction…

the gerudo man twists the bronze ring on his finger. it’s a simple band but robbie at the akkala tech lab had made it and one other, hobbling together some mechanics from the sheikah slate’s sensor with ancient parts from guardians. the purpose of the rings is to guide link and quen back to each other when separated, like now, but the gerudo isn’t convinced they work well. his had been buzzing lightly any time he went north, with slightly more buzz to the northwest. so he’d headed here, but no luck. maybe link had only stopped at the stable and then moved on further north. tomorrow he could look into it.

quen realizes he’s been standing in front of the cookfire, staring into nothing, and shakes himself of his thoughts. dinner time. he pulls out rice, salt, butter, and some peppers, figuring he should make spicy fried rice to keep warm; he’s heard that it gets deadly cold at night in the heights of rito village, even under the covers of the soft inn beds. link showed him these on their first trek into the gerudo highlands, a heavy meat soup made with pepper to keep them warm from the inside. he smiles as he cooks, thinking of the small hylian, and he eats in peace, forgetting about the familiar silhouette at the inn.

later, once the stars are out and the moon is high above, quennan sits on a quiet balcony and stares up at them, wondering if link is seeing the same constellations right now. or is the weather too cloudy for stars and sky? his vision blurs together as he loses focus and gets lost in memory.

_a makeshift shelter of packed snow, seven feet deep and speedily constructed by link. quen had done his best to help, following the hero’s instructions, but in the end link had done most of the work. quen had gotten out all the furs from link’s pack, lining the bottom of the shelter as best he could, and spreading out the large blanket from his own bag for them to curl up under. the hylian had pulled out spicy rice balls and they’d each eaten a couple, the warmth spreading from their bellies to their fingers and toes. quen sighed, finally comfortable enough that he thought he could sleep, and laid down._

_link had paused, fidgeting a little, and quen frowned. “what’s wrong? come on, the longer i hold up this blanket, the more the heat escapes.” he shook the blanket in his hand and the hero hadn’t hesitated again as he crawled into the warmth. quen wrapped an arm around link and pulled his back to his chest, tucking the blanket in around the two of them. it hadn’t taken gerudo long to fall asleep, though he could tell link was still awake as he dozed off._

_in the morning, quen had woken to find that link had rolled over in his sleep, burying his face in the hollow of quen’s throat; and for his part, the gerudo had his face in the hylian’s soft, tawny hair. a blush spread across quen’s cheeks at the tenderness, but he just closed his eyes again, hoping to play it off as getting closer for warmth once link wakes up._

the young man laughs to himself at the memory. had that been the beginning? at the time, he’d written the warmth in his heart off as an instinctual reaction to finally getting the physical contact he’d been longing for. quennan realizes now that it’d been something more, a hope that with someone who shared certain physical differences with him, he’d be able to find that comfort more frequently. he’s so caught up in his thoughts about the possibilities of sharing a life with link that he almost doesn’t hear the soft footsteps behind him, and when he does, he thinks for a moment that it’s the hero himself come to find him. but when he whips around to look, he only sees… the sheikah.

“so you made it here alright,” they say, hands hooked in their belt as they stand over the gerudo.

quen rolls his eyes and turns back to the sky, sighing and leaning back on his hands. “yeah, i did. why do you care? worried i might run across more yiga on my way here?”

there’s the slightest twinge of frustration in the sheikah’s tone. “yeah, i was. you think i want them attacking people?”

“i don’t know what you want. the only sheikah i’ve met before was the traveling painter, pikango, and he told me he’s considered an outsider among his own people.” quen stands, turning to face the sheikah. like this, on the level balcony, he’s a good two or three heads taller than the other man. “so excuse me if i don’t exactly get why you’d stop me from defending hyrule and myself but also seem to be against the yiga attacking anyone else.”

“my crime is wanting to save a life, how horrible. glad i came to check on you.” the sheikah scoffs, but they move closer, leaning against the balcony railing and staring out over the mountains. “… so you’re looking for the hero? you’re his friend, i heard the yiga say. i’m sorry you’re separated.”

he’s silent, debating if he wants to talk to this stranger. but then he leans down too, resting his forearms against the railing and picking at the old wood. “yeah. i’ve known link for… a couple months? i lose track of time easily with all the traveling. we planned to separate, he needed to travel faster than i did somewhere important. i’ll find him again eventually.” absent-mindedly, he moves his hand to twist the ring on his index finger, and then goes back to picking at the wood. “what’s got you traveling alone?” he asks, looking up at the sheikah again with a raised eyebrow.

it’s the sheikah’s turn to be quiet, contemplative maybe before they answer. “you could say i lost something too. i can’t go home until i find it, and even then i’ve decided to stay out here. there’s too many people that need help and not enough helpers.” their voice is quieter than before, sad even, though there’s an undertone of determination. quen understands, and he nods.

“i can understand that. i trained in the gerudo barracks for years, helping defend my people, but the more i travel, the more i wish i had left my home earlier to use my skills in places that aren’t as well-defended.” he glances over at the sheikah and holds out his hand. “i’m quennan, though most just call me quen. i’m glad to have met you, despite the… initial circumstances. you seem like a good person…” he trails off, as if waiting for the sheikah to give their name.

it’s almost hard to tell in the light, but it seems the sheikah’s gaze on quen’s hand is focused on the ring he wears. but then they take his hand in a firm grip, shaking once as they say, “imed.” even with the wrappings on their hand, the gerudo can feel the callouses from bow use; it’s a strong hand, and he writes off the earlier hesitation as reluctance to let their guard down enough to say their name. “you seem like a good person too,” imed continues, taking their hand back from the shake and shifting on their feet. for a moment it almost seems like guilt creases their eyebrows but quen decides it must be a trick of the nighttime and flickering torchlight.

“imed. thank you.” he straightens up and stretches, then turns towards the inn. “it was good talking to you. sleep well, friend.” there’s a hint of a smile and nod to the sheikah before quen heads off. imed watches him go, and sits down on the balcony to watch the stars for a while longer.

in the morning, imed isn’t at the inn, and quen doesn’t see them at all in the rest of rito village, so he assumes the sheikah has moved on. but then he makes it down to rito stable and imed is just finishing up strapping a saddle onto what quen assumes is their horse. the gerudo doesn’t say anything to them at first, but then, “so you’re taking the roads too, now?”

imed nods, adjusting the straps on their saddlebags. “you’re taking the roads. a sure path, but not the quickest or safest route. monster encampments, yiga agents - we can help each other get through these lands alive, and maybe we’ll be fast enough that you catch up to the hero within a few days. then i’ll be on my way.”

quen pauses in the preparation of morrowen, looking at imed with furrowed brows. “you’re offering to team up until i find link again? what about your own search? we might ride on past whatever you’re looking for and you’ll have to backtrack to find it.”

“… it can wait. if you’re a friend of the hero, then this is for the good of hyrule. my personal goals will have to wait.” imed holds out their hand, initiating the symbol of partnership.

the gerudo man looks at the offered hand, and then at imed’s face. they’re still wearing that mask, so all he can parse is their brows and eyes. they seem sincere enough… it’d be nice to have someone to talk to other than his horse, for a while. quen takes imed’s hand and shakes once, firmly. “alright, then. it’ll be good to have someone watching my back.” he mounts up and the sheikah follows suit.

and so the two ride together, heading towards whatever destiny awaits them with the fabled hero of hyrule.


End file.
